


In Sickness and In Health

by rivalshipping



Category: DMMd, DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Other, Permanent Injury, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivalshipping/pseuds/rivalshipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“’M cold,” Mizuki said, shivering when cool breath ghosted across the back of his neck from what he could tell was a silent laugh. “And I ache.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The laughter immediately stopped and slightly warmer lips pressed against his shoulder instead.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness and In Health

**Author's Note:**

> for button
> 
> this is the longest thing ive written in a while

Mizuki groaned when he felt the bed dip behind him. He was barely awake before, but woke enough to speak at the feeling of a warm hand come to rest on his hip. “’M cold,” he said, shivering when cool breath ghosted across the back of his neck from what he could tell was a silent laugh. “And I ache.”

The laughter immediately stopped and slightly warmer lips pressed against his shoulder instead. Mizuki luxuriated in the heat slowly building behind him from body contact, not quite awake enough to figure out exactly who was in bed and definitely not awake enough to care. The warm hand squeezed his hip very gently before pulling away, and then the whole body was gone. Unlike Aoba and Koujaku, who would reach out and physically drag the object of their affections back to them, Mizuki barely sighed when the body left him, turning his face further into his pillow.

“He’s cold again,” someone whispered near the doorway. Two sets of steps made the floor creak in opposite directions: one coming closer and one moving farther away. He was able to open his eyes enough to catch a glimpse of bright blue passing him before the light in the room seemed to sear through his brain. He flinched and tried to pull the blankets higher up around his face, but that movement sent a shooting pain up through his arm.

“My poor baby,” the voice from the doorway murmured, much closer now. Thin fingers brushed hair away from his face and smoothed across his eyelids. “Keep still. Koujaku’s gone to get your medication and some water.”

Mizuki took a risk in looking up again—Aoba blocked most of the light in the room by standing over him. “I’ll be okay,” he attempted to reassure, worried by the pained expression on Aoba’s face.

Honey colored eyes roved over him. “I know. But you’re not now, and that’s the problem.” Aoba lifted his hands to grasp the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, stepping out of his jeans at the same time. “Do you know what time it is, Mimi?”

“Probably afternoon.” Mizuki barely held in the apology that begged to follow, pressing his lips into a thin line and biting his tongue.

“Almost.” The blankets lifted for a moment, letting in a rush of freezing air, and then Aoba was in bed with him, very slowly taking Mizuki into his arms. They were silent for a long while, Mizuki gratefully soaking up as much of Aoba’s heat as he could, hoping it would ease the tightness of his joints. Something large covering them interrupted them; apparently it was a spare blanket, by the way Aoba immediately began tucking it around Mizuki’s back.

Koujaku leaned down to kiss Mizuki’s temple, lingering longer than normal to check for fever, and then kissed Aoba’s cheek. “Do you think you can sit up for me, Mizuki?” he asked, running a hand over Mizuki’s arm. “Just to take this.”

He muttered something incoherent and allowed Aoba to help him sit up, stifling his pain by squeezing his younger boyfriend’s hand to the point where he was wincing as well. “Sorry,” he said through clenched teeth. Aoba shook his head, sitting more behind Mizuki than next to him and keeping his free arm locked around his waist for support.

“This takes a little while to take effect, but we’ll go out later,” Koujaku said softly. It was probably a lie; the cold wreaked havoc on Mizuki’s body, adding to the almost constant nerve pain and headaches that came with the winter months, almost six months after the Scrap incident. His joints became stiff and uncooperative, and in turn, he got more and more irritable. Mizuki was well aware of all the free time and relaxation Koujaku and Aoba were wasting on him. He tried to hold in his frustration as long as he could, usually locking himself in the bathroom and crying it out until one of them found him.

Mizuki wouldn’t disagree with Koujaku no matter his doubts. He silently accepted the water and the pill, drinking the entire glass before smiling shyly at Koujaku. “Thank you. I think…” He swallowed and looked away, smoothing the tips of his fingers over the back of Aoba’s pale hand. “I think you and Aoba should go out today. Together. You’ve been spending so much time with me, in here, and you haven’t had any time to yourself.”

Talking for that long made Mizuki’s throat ache a bit, so he lifted his hand to it, pressing lightly at his collarbone while his boyfriends no doubt had one of their silent conversations over his head. “Alright.” Aoba kissed the back of his head and held him that much tighter. “We’ll make time for us two.” Mizuki sighed, more than relieved. “But you’re not just a ‘third’ in this relationship,” Aoba continued sternly. “We love you just as much as we love each other. Spending so much time with you isn’t a problem.”

Koujaku sat closer to them, his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. “I’m not a fan of the cold anyway,” he said quickly, reaching out to take Mizuki’s glass and put it down on the table before grabbing his other hand. He lifted it to kiss his knuckles, smirking when Mizuki turned an incredible shade of red.

Mizuki nodded to himself, and then tilted his head slightly. “When was the last time you two had sex?”

He completely forgot about how frank talk of anything related to genitals caused the two to react. Koujaku sputtered and turned as red as his customary kimono; Aoba went stone silent, turning his face away and hiding his mouth in his free hand, eyes wide. Mizuki laughed harder than he had in a while. “I’m thinking it was a while ago?” he continued, squeezing both their hands. “It’s natural! Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

The king of embarrassment himself sent him a weak glare. “You know we rarely… do _that_ without you.” He was still red as ever, his eyes flickering between Aoba and Mizuki as if he didn’t want to linger on either of their faces for too long.

Mizuki erupted in laughter again, the feeling almost enough to overshadow the pain from his sharp movements. “I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight. No, hear me out,” he said a bit louder to drown out their protests. “I want you two to have a night out together, and then come home and have sex.”

Aoba’s self-imposed silence cracked at the edges. “Mimi,” he breathed softly. 

“Please do this. For me,” Mizuki said. He knew they would listen to him; he felt overwhelmingly selfish asking them to do anything more when they spent most of their time listening to his requests, but it was also for their own good.

Koujaku nodded like it pained him, shifting to kiss the corner of Mizuki’s mouth and press their foreheads together before leaving the bed and crossing their expansive bedroom to the door. Aoba watched him with the smallest of frowns on his face before turning back to Mizuki, brushing the older man’s hair out of his face.

“If I’m to go out I’ll need to get ready.” Mizuki smiled a bit, expecting Aoba to leave him, but really, he had loved them long enough that he should know they would never do half of what he feared they would. “Come take a bath with me,” Aoba said against his neck, pressing his lips against Mizuki’s bandages as if they were unmarred skin.

Mizuki nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed the blankets off his legs. Aoba stood first and held out his hands for support, allowing Mizuki to lean on him as he stood up mostly under his own power. Once he was upright on the smooth, cool wooden floor, Aoba put his arm around Mizuki’s waist and walked him only slightly slower than usual to the attached bathroom.

It was always warmer in there, no matter the last time someone had taken a shower or a bath. Aoba helped Mizuki sit on the edge of the bath, stopping it and turning on the taps. He gently held Mizuki by his elbows and raised his arms, then pulled his t-shirt over his head, following by kneeling in front of him and removing his cotton pants and underwear as well. Mizuki wasn’t as comfortable being naked as Aoba was—the younger man removed his clothes and kicked them aside without a thought—but he didn’t cover himself with his hands like they’d been working on.

Aoba helped him into the large bath, watching him get comfortable with water up to his shoulders before entering behind him, pulling him to his chest.

They were silent and warm for a long while, Aoba rubbing his hands slowly over Mizuki’s knees and hips and Mizuki leaning his head back against Aoba’s shoulder. There wasn’t much for either of them to say. Aoba was aware more than anyone else how insecure Mizuki could be when his physical well-being was compromised. Once, in the early days of their friendship, Mizuki broke his arm in a Rib fight and was withdrawn for weeks until it fully healed. And now with the remnants of Aoba’s Scrap making him more emotionally frail, Mizuki was silent about his wants and needs and more interested in doing whatever he thought would keep both Aoba and Koujaku in love with him.

Honestly, it didn’t take much. They loved him for who he was, not for what he could offer. Mizuki wouldn’t hear it but that didn’t make it any less true.

Aoba’s hands drifted from adoring touches to slightly more purposeful ones, long fingers stroking Mizuki’s inner thighs and just below his navel. When pain wasn’t dampening Mizuki’s sex drive, pain _medicine_ was, leaving no time in the winter months for him to get any kind of sexual gratification. 

The tattoo artist moaned a bit distractedly, still staring into space. Aoba didn’t start by touching his cock directly, instead pressing lightly on his perineum and using his other hand to palm across Mizuki’s chest. “Alright?” he murmured while his fingers brushed lower and lower, the tip of his index sinking slightly into Mizuki’s hole.

“Mmh,” Mizuki groaned, reaching behind him to return the favor, but Aoba pushed his arm away.

“For you,” he said without leaving room for argument. “Relax. Tell me when you don’t want it.”

Mizuki leaned away, lifting his wet hands to rub across his eyes. “I don’t want it.” Aoba’s hands immediately released him and he held back a sob. To pleasure Aoba, sure, he would work past his absolute zero arousal, but he didn’t feel like watching Aoba’s expression fall to disappointment when he didn’t get so much as hard.

His boyfriend returned to rubbing his shoulders and arms. “Sorry, Mimi,” he apologized softly. “I keep pushing…” Aoba cut off, watching Mizuki turn himself around so his thinner legs rested to either side of Aoba’s waist and he sat in the space between. Trembling fingers reached for his cock again and stroked it forcefully.

“Kiss me,” Mizuki pleaded, and Aoba obliged, holding Mizuki by the nape of his neck and pulling him forward into a deep kiss. They barely broke for breath as Mizuki’s strokes sped up, but it was more than perfunctory masturbation, something Koujaku and Aoba had become familiar with as Mizuki’s pains worsened. Although he wasn’t getting any pleasure from it, Mizuki was moaning almost as loud as Aoba, encouraging him to give in to the rush of endorphins and focus on the feeling of Mizuki’s loving hand on his cock.

Aoba’s breath stuttered, signaling the oncoming of orgasm; his boyfriend began to thrust against him, his own cock completely flaccid, but the added friction sent Aoba over the edge in seconds. His loud, choked off whimpers echoed beautifully in the bathroom, Mizuki’s encouraging whispers barely audible underneath.

When he calmed, Aoba kissed Mizuki even more passionately, mumbling, “I love you, fuck, Mizuki, I love you so much,” against his lips. Mizuki’s own mouth turned up in a small smile.  
\---  
“Have fun,” Mizuki all but ordered, gripping the edge of the dresser until his knuckles were white with one hand for balance, the other hand rested on his hip for intimidation. Even if he wasn’t physically able to make his boyfriends listen to him, he was more than able to psychologically. “Don’t come to me when you get home. This is time for you.”

Koujaku looked like he was going to protest, adjusting his sweater in an obviously anxious way, but Mizuki frowned at him and he closed his mouth, scowling at the floor. “We understand,” Aoba assured.

“I can’t promise I won’t end up in your bed,” Koujaku said angrily, stepping into Mizuki’s space and sliding his arms around his waist. “I love you.”

Mizuki’s smile seemed to brighten the entire bedroom. “I love you too.” He leaned up to kiss Koujaku thoroughly, closing his eyes and tilting his head. “Go. I’m not letting you near me until you and Aoba have had at least one mutual orgasm.” He laughed aloud at Koujaku’s absolutely stricken expression, relinquishing his death grip on the dresser to push playfully at Koujaku’s chest. “ _Go_.”

Aoba, in a pale yellow button down, stopped pulling on his gloves to ruffle Koujaku’s hair. “Tuck him in and let’s get going.” He left them together, half closing the bedroom door behind himself.

Mizuki rolled his eyes. “I’m not an invalid,” he murmured, but he wrapped his arms around Koujaku’s neck all the same, allowing himself to be walked backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed— _their_ bed, not the guest bed like he previously stated. “And I barely ache at all now.”

It took a while for Koujaku to be satisfied with Mizuki’s position in the middle of the bed, absolutely buried in blankets and surrounded by pillows. “That’s good.” He sighed, seeming truly upset with having to leave Mizuki alone. Koujaku was definitely the most possessive of the three, worried when anyone or anything came between them, even something as small as a night out.

Taking pity, Mizuki tilted his head up for a kiss. After Koujaku accepted, kissing his lips and his eyelids, Mizuki grinned. “I’m fine. I’ll be sleeping when you get back anyway. Tell me how it went in the morning.” 

Koujaku didn’t seem mollified but smiled anyway. “I will. You’ll wake up with both of us beside you.” Mizuki rolled his eyes again, settling himself in the blankets. Koujaku turned out the light as he left, closing the door behind him.

Aoba was waiting for him in the sitting room, holding another scarf and pair of gloves in his hands. “Is he alright?” he asked as soft as he could.

“Yeah. He’s going to sleep,” Koujaku said just as softly. “I’m still worried.”

The youngest of them scoffed and shook his head. “We always are. Come on, we’re taking the underground.”

Koujaku finished putting on his outerwear and took Aoba’s hand, Aoba leading them out the door, turning back to lock it, and continuing down the stairs and to the street. They walked in silence in the cool air, stepping over mounds of snow and looking up at the cloudy sky every few minutes as if it would snow if they weren’t looking.

The underground was full of people—it wasn’t Christmas shopping, as it was early January, and there weren’t many other couples. Aoba watched the people that passed, hoping to see a familiar face or two, while Koujaku led them to the platform that would take them to the shopping district. The train shrieked and hissed as it came to a stop in front of them. As soon as the doors opened, Koujaku slid past people exiting to enter, moving to the front of the car near another set of doors and positioning Aoba in front of him, between him and the handhold pole.

Aoba smiled to himself as one of Koujaku’s hands held his hip and the other grabbed the pole. He was more than protective now; his anxiety over Mizuki was probably bleeding over into his constant concern for Aoba. “He won’t even miss us,” Aoba said. “We can get him a few presents while we’re out.”

“Sure,” Koujaku readily agreed, but his hand tightened on Aoba’s hip and his chest pressed more firmly to Aoba’s back.

There were only three stops between their start and their finish, so they didn’t let their thoughts wander any more than that. Koujaku once again led the way across the platform, his hand gripping Aoba’s tightly to keep them together. “Presents first, dinner after,” Koujaku said into his ear, and Aoba nodded, holding his jacket even more tightly about himself.

They went into various shops, one stocking stuffed animals (Aoba bought one that looked like a peach bun and was about the size of his head, Koujaku bought a matched set of three pugs, black, beige, and red); another selling Coil charms (“I can’t believe Mizuki likes these,” Aoba sighed, a fond smirk on his face); yet another offering knit hats and scarves (they decided to buy him a black beanie with a little silver skull embroidered into the side). Laden with shopping bags, they decided to forego an “actual” restaurant and instead get yakisoba from a vendor.

“What time is it?” Aoba asked, hooking his ankle around Koujaku’s and leaning his head on the other man’s shoulder.

Koujaku glanced at his Coil. “Almost eleven. We’ve been out here for three hours.”

Aoba paused. “I love you so much, Koujaku, you know that—”

“But this definitely counts as a night out,” Koujaku finished with a grin, kissing Aoba’s worried expression away. “I love you too, Aoba. We’re just worried about Mizuki.”

Aoba looked more than relieved that Koujaku understood. “We will go out more often. But tonight I want to go back to him,” he said, smiling as well. Koujaku kissed him again and stood up, taking the majority of the shopping bags and Aoba’s hand to return to the underground station.  
\---  
After stashing the gifts in the closet of the guest bedroom, Aoba returned to the sitting room where Koujaku served tea for the both of them. The television was off, so the noise didn’t wake Mizuki on accident, and the lights were at their lowest setting. Snow fell lightly outside the window, blanketing the city once again and lowering the temperature drastically.

“We’ll bring him another blanket when we go in,” Koujaku said without a prompt, noticing Aoba’s upset glances at the frosted window. “Sit.”

His boyfriend sighed and sat next to him, picking up his tea and holding it for warmth more than drinking it. “I want to make it better,” Aoba said. “I hate this.”

Koujaku turned to him. “I do too, Aoba, but the only thing we can do is support him. There’s no cure.”

Aoba practically threw his tea back onto the table, pressing the heels of his palms into his cheekbones and covering his eyes. “Fuck,” he hissed, barely reacting when Koujaku stroked his back. “And it’s my fault this happened to him. I fucking—”

“What did we tell you about talking like that?” Koujaku asked in his least yielding voice, seeming to shout without raising his voice at all. Aoba looked up, livid, before pushing Koujaku onto his back and kissing him like his life depended on it. His cold hands fumbled with Koujaku’s jeans, sliding them down as much as he could without letting Koujaku move and palming Koujaku’s cock through his briefs.

“Fuck me,” Aoba pleaded, kneeling above Koujaku to undo his own pants. “There’s lube in the coffee table.”

Koujaku rifled through the drawers until he found it, muttering, “I’m not going to ask why,” and flipping the cap to the small tube. He slicked his fingers without so much as a hint of foreplay, but Aoba didn’t want it anyway. He spread his legs only as much as he needed to take Koujaku’s fingers, starting with two thrusting roughly into him.

The younger man winced and gasped, gripping Koujaku’s shoulders and shutting his eyes tightly. Two fingers swiftly turned into three, and then Koujaku’s thrusts slowed and he stroked Aoba’s lower back with his free hand. “What?” Aoba snarled, rocking in an effort to get Koujaku to move faster.

“You’re crying.” Aoba frowned and reached up to touch his cheek, startled at the wetness. He shook it off, rolling his shoulders and taking deep breaths.

“I don’t care,” he said under his breath. Koujaku pulled his fingers away and slicked his cock with more lube, dragging Aoba into position and guiding his prick into Aoba’s hole. It only took a moment of adjustment before Aoba was back to forcing the pace, panting and moaning his pleasure into the dim room, and then into Koujaku’s neck when the older man pulled him forward.

A few more minutes of unforgiving, deep thrusts and Aoba cursed, stroking his dick in time with Koujaku’s movements and coming across his chest, squeezing just under the head all the way through his orgasm. Koujaku seemed to be aiming right at his prostate during his release, overstimulating him; the pleasure-pain was welcome and he continued to fuck himself on Koujaku’s cock.

Some soft sounds from the armchair across from the couch caused him to look up, and he almost shouted in surprise. Mizuki was sitting back in the large chair, legs spread and hand working steadily over his dick, eyes wide and fixed on Koujaku and Aoba. Aoba gently stroked Koujaku’s cheek and turned his head to notice Mizuki as well. The two on the couch met eyes again and silently convened, and then nodded. They got up, crossing the floor to Mizuki, who paused in surprise, before kneeling at his feet and pushing his hands away.

“Ah,” Mizuki breathed, resisting the urge to slide his fingers into both of their hair as they kissed at his cock. Aoba licked at the vein near the base while Koujaku slid his tongue through the slit; Koujaku continued to stroke at his erection while he lavished Mizuki’s. “Ah, ah!”

Koujaku’s lips slid over the head of his cock and sucked, breaking his concentration on scraping his nails against the arm of the couch. He tugged Koujaku’s ponytail out like he usually did, gripping his hair when it flowed loose over his shoulders. Aoba bit dark marks into Mizuki’s inner thigh, earning a hand in his hair as well, his hold much lighter than that in Koujaku’s. Aoba felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes again at Mizuki’s concern.

Mizuki held himself back from thrusting into Koujaku’s mouth, stammering, “I’m coming, Kou—!”

Eyes bright and narrowed as he watched Mizuki come apart, Koujaku leaned back with his mouth open, stroking Mizuki’s cock rapidly until he came, white ribbons painting his lips and cheeks. Mizuki turned crimson at the action, but his pupils were still dilated, leaving a sliver of green iris around huge black circles. Aoba sat up and licked the majority of it from Koujaku’s face, taking it into his mouth and swallowing quite obviously. Mizuki moaned again, rubbing softly over the head of his spent cock.

Koujaku and Aoba kissed messily while Aoba jerked Koujaku to a quick completion, sharing the bitter taste of Mizuki’s come between them. “Sorry,” a soft, hoarse voice mumbled. Both Aoba and Koujaku looked up at him, the latter still licking his lips like the cat who got the cream. “I didn’t mean to spy on you.”

Aoba huffed a laugh, leaning up and kissing Mizuki’s neck reverently. “You’re always welcome, Mimi. Especially in this.” Koujaku agreed with a murmur, swiping his thumb over the thin skin of Mizuki’s ankle.

“You should still be in bed,” Koujaku added, standing and pulling his open jeans up around his hips before offering a hand to Mizuki and Aoba both. “A quick shower and then sleep.”

Mizuki pouted but leaned into Koujaku’s chest, humming contentedly when Aoba pressed against his back and nuzzled his shoulder. “Only if you come with.”  
\---  
Showering was a little difficult, as they had to support most of Mizuki’s weight, but the look of absolute bliss as the two loves of his life helped him clean up made the whole experience worthwhile. They dried him, dressed him in soft cotton pants and one of Koujaku’s shirts, and then put him to bed, lying to either side of him. Mizuki lay on his back (“I don’t want to leave anyone out,” he had explained the first time he slept in the middle, eyes shyly downcast), Koujaku to his right and Aoba to his left, each one holding his hand.

“Love you,” he said sleepily, eyes already half closed.

Aoba chuckled and kissed his cheek. “We love you too, Mimi. And we have gifts for you in the morning.”

That woke him up, but for the wrong reasons; Koujaku felt a little sick at the disbelief on Mizuki’s face, and Aoba swallowed down a sigh. “No, you didn’t have to,” Mizuki insisted, frowning at one and then the other. “I don’t need anything.”

“We know we didn’t have to, Mizuki, that’s why we did it. Don’t worry about it, alright?” Koujaku whispered, separating his hand from Mizuki’s and sliding his arm underneath him instead, his free hand resting lightly on Mizuki’s stomach.

Mizuki mumbled something unintelligible, but did close his eyes again. Aoba mouthed a “thank you” at him to which Koujaku smiled back, waiting until Aoba’s breaths had evened as much as Mizuki’s before trying to sleep himself. Perhaps Mizuki would feel well enough in the early morning to take a short walk with them.


End file.
